Silence
by An abundance of squids
Summary: Its been twenty years since the events at cinnabar island, but not much has changed. Short story about what happened and the result of what happened there.


Silence.

The snow that covered the ground seemed to absorb any sound, leaving the graveyard eerily quiet. Even the demonic noises of the ghost types that haunted the place were absent.

But it wasn't empty.

In one corner, almost at the back of the yard, stood a figure. It was unusually tall, and had a silhouette that did not seem human. Beside it, a small yellow glow of illumination cast a pale sphere of light around it.

It had been standing there for a while now, head bent in what appeared to be a silent prayer, possibly to whoever's grave it stood before.

The graveyard's manager, Mr. Iliad Fuji watched the figure with curiosity. He had been managing the graveyard for over twenty years, and he knew that no one had ever came to see that tombstone.

No one but him.

Ever since that faithful day exactly twenty years ago, ever since his brother had died during the enigmatic events at Pokémon mansion, no one but him had ever cared enough to visit the man's grave.

So who was this being that had turned up, exactly twenty years later to give a gesture of honour to the long dead man?

He got up and moved to the door of the building that lead to the entrance to the grounds, grabbing his coat for protection against the softly falling snow.

As he moved closer, he could make out more of the visitor. It was indeed not a human. It wore a thick, dark brown cloak that both disguised its form and protected it from the gently falling precipitation. The cloak's hood was up, hiding the face and head of the visitor.

But he already knew the identity of the being.

"mewtwo." He said, calling the Pokémon's name. The humanoid's head slowly rode at the mention of its name.

"So you have finally come to honour the soul of the man who gave you life."

The being turned around. It had almost white grey skin and a long purple tail snaked around its feet, ending at a bulbous tip that twitched occasionally. From this angle, its hood hid nothing on its face, revealing its large purple eyes and strangely beast-like face.

But while it tried to impose its power upon the man, he could see that it was only a façade. It's eyes were dull and contained the slightest glimmer of...sadness? Even despite his years of manning the graveyard and seeing the grief filled eyes of hundreds of mourners, he still had trouble identifying what was behind those eyes. Perhaps it was the merciless nature of the beast that lead it to hide whatever shreds of emotion it held within its mind.

The Pokémon remained silent, but looked back at the grave.

Next to the grave was a lantern. Its wick was alight, giving the illumination that he had seen through the snow earlier. The Pokémon picked it up, azure telekinesis encasing it.

When the Pokémon's head turned back, its eyes had changed. Whatever traces of emotion and weakness it had shown were gone, leaving the muted anger that seemed to permanently reside in them.

The Pokémon walked past him without saying anything, exuding an aura of distance and coldness as it did. It started to walk away, its bare, two toed feet silently making footsteps in the snow.

*why did you come here?"

the legend suddenly stopped upon hearing the question. There was a pause, as if the being in question did not know how to answer it.

"why I came here is none of your concern human." It finally said. It's voice was a deep baritone that seemed almost deafening in the silent graveyard.

It turned around to face Mr. Fuji.

"I do not know how or why you know my name, but I can tell you this—" it lifted its right arm and the air was suddenly filled with psychic energy. "—you will not know it for much longer."

"Please mewtwo, is that really necessary? I've know about you before you were even made — I can keep the secret a little longer."

It slowly lowered it hand and the energy dissipated. On the barren landscape that was its face, puzzlement showed up clearly.

"Who are you?"

"my name is Mr. Fuji, owner of this graveyard and brother of the man who gave you life." He watched the legends face for any sort of reaction to the news.

It gave none.

"I see." It merely said.

"your turn. Why are you here?"

"I said it does not concern you. You identity does not change that fact."

"I would like to know why the being that not only killed my brother but tore apart my family has decided to visit the grave of one of his victims. That, I know, is not normal for a killer."

It let a small snort.

"call it...an impulse." It folded its arms.

There was an uncomfortable silence as the man waited for further explanation from the Pokémon.

"as much I hate to admit it, I am not entirely human with my thinking. Sometimes impulses like this one fuel me to do things I would've never done had I been thinking logically. That is my only motivation behind this visit." It finally said, letting out a small sound of annoyance as it did so. Mewtwo then turned back to the grave.

There was yet another silence, as the duo stood there, staring at the headstone.

Finally, the Pokémon broke the silence.

"do you really blame me for his death?" it murmured, its voice so low it was nearly inaudible.

"I honestly can't answer. I don't know what happened, so I can't judge." He turned to the legend. "could you enlighten me to what really happened?"

It let out a shaky sigh and drew its cloak closer around it, a pained expression taking over its face.

"I can try. But I was young and the memories hurt so much..." its voice trailed off.

"Perhaps you would like to go inside?" the Pokémon gave a small nod. They turned and walked back to the small building that marked the entrance to the site.

Once inside, the Pokémon sat down at the small table that sat in the middle of the room. It took if its cloak and put the lantern on the table.

Mr. Fuji moved to the small kitchenette

"Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?"

"just some tea." It replied, its cold composure returning to its voice and face.

"so," the man said, putting the drinks on the table. "what's the lantern for?

"its a beacon." It sighed. " I was once told that if you carried a light around Kanto, that the legends would come down and talk to you. But given that I've been doing it for fifteen years, perhaps it was nothing more than a story. Just the gods I earnestly seek." It sighed and took a sip of its drink.

"so, what happened at Pokémon mansion?"

The Pokémon was silent for a moment, starring into the brown depths of its drink. When it spoke again, its voice was strangely quiet and trembled ever so slightly.

"I didn't kill him. Team rocket did." It took one last sigh and began its tale.

"I had barely been created. I was two hours old and I hadn't even gotten control over my still developing powers. The other man that had been there — I think he was Blaine from cinnabar gym — had gone to get something from the shop I think. I was with Dr. Fuji in the lab. He was writing something in what I can guess was a journal of some sort.

"I heard the doorbell ring and he got up to go to the door, leaving me alone. Not even a minute later, he came back running and yelling something to me. I don't know what it was. I was to young to understand any kind of speech." The Pokémon took a sip of its drink. "as soon as he grabbed me, the door to the lab burst open and half a dozen men in black team rocket uniforms came in, pointing guns at us. And then he came." It winced as if the memory was hurting it. "they ripped me from him and tossed him aside. And then he came over to me. And then that's when it happened." It lowered its gaze from the man, starring at the mug and speaking so low it was almost a whisper. "my new and fluctuating powers flared up, my anger and distress fuelling them. I let out a blast that would've killed any unprotected human within the room. The rockets were protected. But...I can not say the same about my creator." It made a peculiar sound that sounded almost like a sob.

"his mind was utterly destroyed. I was mentally connected to him, as he was my creator, and that connection was brutally severed. And I was left helpless as they took me. But I was too strong for them. Within two weeks, I had escaped, killing everyone involved. Everyone but the most important man."

"Giovanni." Mr. Fuji said, not as a question, but as a statement for what he knew.

"yes. But it was too late. They warped my mind. They forced my mind and my body to grow, stealing away a childhood I might've had. They trained me brutally, resorting often to torture when I couldn't fight. They jaded my mind and scared all perception of humans I had. They even somehow stole my emotions and my mercy. I barely managed to escape. The only reason why I could even do so was...was..." its voice stuttered. "the master ball. It failed. I was too strong for it. But those five seconds I spent in the ball, fighting its seemingly invincible grip was enough. That feeling of hopelessness is enough to drive any being insane. So when it failed, I ran. I don't know how I managed to muster enough power to even get up at that point." Its voice was audibly shaking at this point. It's hands gripped its cup so hard that it threatened to break.

Then, silence.

And then, it cracked.

It collapsed onto the table, its sobs causing its entire body to heave.

Eventually, its cries dissolved into silent sobs. Mr. Fuji went to put a calming hand on the distressed Pokémon, but its head jerked up in surprise upon his touch.

"I...I don't deserve your sympathy." It whispered. "not after what I did. And not after what I became.

"We all deserve sympathy mewtwo. " he said. The Pokémon looked up properly, and for the first time, its eyes met his.

Its purple eyes were brighter than they were before, but its irides were a cloudy purple now, not the clear pools they had been. Its whites were pink and its eyes were moist, despite the lack of tears on its face.

Now, when it's façade was shattered, he could see what flickers of emotion resided within it. Its anger was no longer muted, but blazed in its mind, hidden by layers of grief and pain. But above all that, it was scared. Stress and tiredness were visibly playing havoc in its mind, with its eyes reflecting the broken state its mind was in.

But all he could focus on was the fear.

He had seen quite a few children come and go through the graveyard, and most of them had the same scared expression as they came in. The fear of death. Not for their own eventual deaths, but fear and grief as they failed to comprehend that one of their beloved was gone forever from their life.

And that's what he saw in mewtwo. The eyes of a child.

The failure to comprehend the death of its creator, combined with the conditioning that team rocket had forced upon it, had led its mind to crumble, removing much more than just its emotion. It had removed things it couldn't comprehend. Things that every being should have a right to understand.

And in a way, the failure to comprehend its own life.

He took to Pokémon in his arms and, much to his surprise, it didn't resist. Its body was limp and heavy, almost like the one of a sleeper.

But despite all that, it didn't cry. The most that came from it was a strange dry, horse sounding sob. And even that soon faded into silence.

There was a long moment where the Pokémon remained still, but it was broken when the being drew away, taking in a shaky breath as it did.

"I should go." It said, its voice strangely devoid of the emotions its face so plainly showed. "I'm putting you in danger just being here and…" its voice trailed as it got up, its back still turned to the man. Its façade had been reconstructed by now, leaving no trace of its unexpected outburst. It picked up its cloak and lantern and turned to out of the door.

"wait." The Pokémon stopped, its telekinesis already opening the door. "do you blame yourself for his death?"

The Pokémon turned its head and looked back at Mr. Fuji.

"yes." It finally said, its voice strained as if it was trying to prevent itself from collapsing again. "yes I do."

It turned without saying another word and ran out the door, into the falling snow, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.

* * *

AN – so, this was originally meant to be something uplifting. Talk about going off topic. One or two of you have pointed up that these shorter stories lack in some places or just aren't as good as other things I've written, and I admit that this is the case. Most of these short things are more writing exercises than complete stories, hence the…abrupt nature of them. Sorry.

Oh well. Better luck next year.


End file.
